Game, Set, and Match
by Min Daae
Summary: Tuon and Mat play an intricate game that parallels his memories. Third place in the Moiraine's World fanfiction contest.


_He bowed over her hand. "And who is this lovely and unforeseen, jewel?" _

_She looked at him, her dark eyes inscrutable. The corner of her mouth quirked slightly in what might have been a smile. She swept a graceful curtsey and inclined her head ever so slightly, the gesture of a superior to a favored noble. He blinked, surprised. "I am Kaisendrin." She offered no title, nothing more. He offered a hand, intrigued. _

"_May I have a dance?"_

"_I have injured my ankle, and am to take rest." She did not offer an apology._

"_May I escort you to the hall, then?"_

"_I have my Noriha for that, thank you." She smiled affectionately at the lady at her side, dressed in a flowing gown of purple that complemented her mistress' sapphire dress that fell to the ground, studded with small, glittering jewels. Her dark hair pulled back, she looked like the Queen of the Night herself. Desperate as she started to glide away, he called after her._

"_May I have a game of Stones, then, my Lady Kaisendrin?_

_She looked over her shoulder, her gaze pitying and mocking at the same time. "I do not play," she said clearly, and then she swept into the hall and was gone.  
_

* * *

Mat woke up blinking at the sudden influx of light. He opened his eyes and rolled out of bed, shaking the sleep from his head and running his hands through greasy hair. He sat on the edge of his bed, thinking. The dream had not been unpleasant, but it had not been his, either. It had not even been a dream. It was one of those memories that floated in and out of his head at will. He was rather used to it by now, but that was the first time they had entered his dreams.

With a sigh, he got up, pulled on some clothes, and went outside. The morning was bright and sunny, but there was hardly anyone to be seen in the circle of tents and wagons. He went over to check on Pips and saw Tuon feeding Akein an apple. She didn't look up at him, but continued whispering to her horse under her breath. It reminded him strikingly of how she talked to Selucia when he was around. He suspected that it might be because she wanted him to wonder.

Pretending indifference, Mat fetched his saddle and cinched the girth. As he led Pips toward the border of the camp to go for a ride, he glanced back at Tuon. "Would you care to accompany me?" he asked, as if it were an afterthought. She did not look up.

"I am not in the mood for riding," she said. "Perhaps later."

He shrugged and said, "Suit yourself," but he sighed regretfully when he was sure that she was out of earshot. She seemed determined to resist all his attempts to be ingratiating. He rode ahead of the caravans a little ways and pulled Pips in, thinking. He heard a peal of laughter behind him and glanced over his shoulder. He scowled, his already dark mood darkening. Running at full speed in full sight, Tuon perched on Akein's back, a doll riding a sparrow. Just behind her, Selucia's Rosebud strained to match the razor's speed, and Tuon was laughing her rich, free laugh. He might have thought it mere accident, but a moment later she turned Akein and galloped her toward him and Pips. He reined the gelding in as she blazed past, Pips pulling to follow her at a run, and he caught a glimpse of her mocking smile as she passed him_  
_

* * *

_He sent the flowers to her room the night before, with a note that told her that he had been bedazzled by her beauty and compelled to find something to equal it. He babbled about the flowers not being equal to her, or some such nonsense, and closed with some kind of mysterious epithet. He didn't remember what he had written, at least until the note showed up on his doorstep, unopened with the flowers still attached, in the morning. She had added a small note tucked inside one of the flowers. "Dear Admirer," her precise handwriting read, "I appreciate the gift, but I am afraid I cannot accept it. Flora make me rather ill. Thank you for the gesture, but please send nothing else – I am afraid I am unable to accept gifts at this time. Kaisendrin."_

_He sat down to prevent himself from breaking something. She was provoking him, baiting him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. But he did not give up challenges easily, and Kaisendrin certainly presented a challenge, if nothing else. Clenching his fists and releasing to relax his frustration, he tore some paper, uncapped his pen, and began drafting his reply, his mouth twisted in a grim, determined smile._

* * *

Days passed at a slow pace, Valan insisting on pausing at every cluster of houses that could plausibly be called a town, protesting that he would be bankrupt if he was forced to keep moving. Besides, he pointed out, smiling smugly, the Seanchan would be suspicious of a caravan that did not perform. He gritted his teeth and bore it as gracefully as he could manage.

Every time he turned around, there was Tuon, her fingers flickering gracefully at Selucia as the pair of them giggled behind their hands. He scowled at her and stumped off, muttering, but she only found that more amusing. He tried smiling at her, but that sent both her and Selucia off into gales of uncontrollable laughter. He wondered if he could bribe Selucia into telling him what Tuon was saying about him. Probably not.

He was sure that she never talked about him when he was not there. Only when he looked at her would she lift her hand to cover her laughing mouth or flicker a message at Selcucia that made the both of them double over with giggles. All the time, no matter how hard she was laughing, she watched him, gauging his reaction, watching what he was doing, her wide eyes calculating, weighing, watching his every move as if he were some specimen she were studying.

The whole thing stretched his temper to the breaking point. The third day Valan Luca insisted on stopping in a village that must have had about thirty people total, Mat picked a fight with him, needing to snap at someone and not particularly wanting to snap at Tuon. When it reached the point that he was shouting at Luca that he was paying good money to get out of Altara and they were hardly getting anywhere at this pace, he distinctly heard Tuon behind him whisper loudly to Selucia, "I wonder if he's worried that if he stays in Altara he'll get picked up as Tylin's discarded Toy."

He whirled on her, and there she was, cool and composed, staring straight at him with her head tilted to one side, a little smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, one eyebrow lifted questioningly as if to ask, _you were wondering something? _At her side, Selucia was laughing, barely bothering to conceal her mirth, but Tuon herself was the picture of seriousness. He scowled at Selucia, barely resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Tuon, and walked in the other direction, leaving Valan Luca gaping after him. He caught a glimpse of Tuon moving in and resting a hand lightly on his arm. Mat, unfortunately, knew very well that they would get nowhere until Tuon wanted them to.

To make matters worse, the dreams continued. He slept well, but his memories focused more and more on this one person and his…Kaisendrin. The third time he called dark-haired Joline "Kaisendrin" and had to scramble for excuses as to why, he wondered if he ought to ask Setalle Anan for something that would help him sleep without dreams. He decided against it, but some part of him wished that if his days were plagued with Tuon, at least his nights would not be plagued with someone who might have been her sister_  
_

* * *

_He didn't get a reply from Kaisendrin. He didn't see her for the next few days. When he finally managed to corner her maidservant, she told him that Kaisendrin was unwell and was taking no visitors. Yes, she had received his letter. No, she did not plan to continue their correspondence or to accept his invitation to an evening alone to get to know each other. "Kaisendrin feels that encouraging your advances would be inappropriate at this stage in her life. She is not certain that you are the right kind of person for her."_

_She did not say that she thought she was too good for him, but it was clear enough. Once Noriha had gone, he punched the wall as viciously as he dared. "_Burn _that woman," he muttered to himself as he stalked back to his rooms. He wondered what his next move would be. Another man might give up, but her latest reply made him all the more determined. Sitting on his bed, he stared at the returned flowers and slowly smiled as he made up his mind. _

_If she would not come to him, he would just have to come to her._

* * *

Mat woke up feeling dizzily unlike himself and badly needing a drink. For a moment, reality and the dream/memory mingled and he wondered where Kaisendrin was and where he was, but he shook his head, already feeling the effects of a pounding headache that felt like a hangover, but without the pleasure of the drunk night before. Scowling already, he slouched over to the mirror and pulled out his razor. Looking at his bleary eyes and still feeling unsteady, he decided better of bringing a sharp blade near his throat.

Leaving his itchy stubble alone, he exited into the sunlight, set on finding Thom and letting him know that under no circumstances was he doing anything this morning other than going down to the pathetic cluster of houses Valan Luca called a town and finding a tavern.

Mat was expecting Tuon to say something scathing, and prepared himself to stay silent and not lash out with the reply on the tip of his tongue. However, she just looked at him with her big, owlish eyes and smiled slightly before turning to Selucia, her fingers already flickering. Resolutely he turned his back and stalked off, stiff backed, ignoring the giggles that trailed after him.

He found Thom shamelessly showing off for a gaggle of admiring young women from the village. He rolled his eyes and called to Thom. He bowed, flourishing his cape (not his gleeman's patches, but he had managed to procure one from somewhere) and excused himself, leaving the girls whispering among themselves.

"Aren't they a bit young for you?" Mat said wryly. Thom blew out his long moustaches and scowled.

"Don't be ridiculous, Cauthon. I was just practicing, and this young crowd happens to appreciate talent." Thom affected an offended air, every inch the offended _artiste. _

"You should have been an actor," Mat told him. "Listen. I'm feeling desperately in need of something sharp and alcoholic this morning. Can you keep an eye out for things while I go to town and hunt down a tavern?"

"What, without me?" Mat scowled at Thom, and the old gleeman threw up his hands. "Fine. But I doubt that much will happen without you here to cause your mischief."

Mat clapped Thom on the back, already feeling a little better. "Good. I'm off, then. Don't expect me to be useful for the rest of the day. I'm planning on getting a little drunk."

Before Mat left, he turned and looked back at the girls already clustering around Thom again. "Be careful around him," he warned them. "He's very quick with those juggling hands of his." Thom scowled at him, and Mat flashed him a grin. As he strolled off down the hill, he thought he heard Thom talking to the girls.

"Don't believe a word he says about me. Jealous, he is. Tried to teach him the art, but too clumsy to be any good..." Mat shrugged to himself, muttering about clever tongued gleemen, and shut out the distant sounds of the waking circus, humming 'I'm Down At the Bottom of the Well' to himself.

A few of the patrons in the town's only tavern looked at him strangely when he asked for ale this early in the morning, but apparently his status as an obvious foreigner, and the prospect of getting money from a rich outland lord, out weighed suspicion in the bartender of the Dancing Badger. The sign was well painted and the inside was well lit, but cramped. It was better than most of the taverns he'd been in recently, at least, though it reminded him altogether too much of the Inn at home.

Still, the drink was good, and before too long Mat found himself dancing with a pretty girl who wouldn't have been out of place at a Two Rivers Beltine celebration in her modest dress and braided hair. Still, she was pretty, and a good dancer, too. He didn't recognize the music or the dance, but soon enough he picked it up and was dancing just as well as any of the locals. He'd always been good with his feet. And his hands, too, whatever Thom said.

Mat had just passed off the Beltine girl, whose name was Faloia, and picked out another partner, this time a petite, dark haired woman, when he felt the hairs on his neck prickle and looked instinctively over his shoulder. There in the doorway, her gaze sweeping the inside of the Dancing Badger, Selucia standing beside her as always. At least she was wearing the curly wig he'd bought to disguise her distinctive lack of hair. His first instinct was to drop the girl he was whirling around the floor like a hot potato and slink out the back, but Mat scowled at the thought of creeping away from her like a whipped dog. Instead, he pulled out a smile and put it on, laughing and pretending not to notice Tuon. He could feel her watching him, but pretended not to until the dance brought him closer to her table. Mat looked straight at her and winked broadly, resisting the urge to laugh out loud at her sour expression.

He danced for a few minutes longer and then spun the girl off to another partner, waved off Faloia's offer of another dance, and snagging a drink, made his way across the floor of the Dancing Badgerto the table where Tuon and Selucia sat, the one delicately sipping a glass of something that smelled fruity and sweet, the other with her nose wrinkled in blatant disgust and disapproval. Surprisingly, it was Tuon who looked less perturbed.

As he approached, Selucia gave him a look that would have fried raw eggs, and Tuon didn't even look up from stirring her fruit cocktail. "Ah, Toy," she said smoothly,her voice mildly disinterested. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What a pleasant surprise." Mat swept an elegantly exaggerated bow. "Selucia, whatever is the matter? You look as though you have swallowed an apple core." Selucia's eyes narrowed, and her mouth thinned dangerously. He bowed slightly to her, letting his mouth quirk in a smile that verged on mocking. Her expression grew so indignant that he could hardly believe that her eyes weren't falling right out of her head and onto the floor. Mat looked back at Tuon. "Tuon. What do you do here?"

She blinked up at him, her big eyes the picture of innocence itself. "I merely thought that while we delay for a few days while Master Luca restocks the caravan, I would explore this…quaint…little outfit."

"A few!..." Mat cut himself off and pulled up a chair, sitting down heavily. "Well. There's not much to explore, as you can see. I'll leave you two ladies alone." He needed another drink. This was all Tuon, he was sure. Luca had restocked the supplies in the last town, less than three days ago. But this delicate game they were playing would certainly not allow him to accuse her of that. He just wished that she moved a little more slowly, so he'd at least have time to counter her. He caught a glint of gold across the room, and strolled over.

Three men were spinning dice on the table in an unfamiliar gambling game. After a few rounds, the game was finished, and Mat thought he'd picked up the theory, or at least enough to try it. His fingers itched to try his luck. "May I?" he asked the men, who nodded and moved aside for him to pull up a chair. He was just sitting down when he heard a voice behind him.

"Ah. Kings. I know this game. May I join you, gentlemen?" Tuon's accent was barely audible in her suddenly smooth voice. Mat clenched his fists on the arms of his chair and gritted his teeth, but the others were already welcoming her with smiles and polite questions. Just like the Two Rivers. He scowled, and tugged on his hat.

"Let's play," he said shortly.

Distracted, he threw his first toss. The Dark One's Eyes. A losing toss, in this game. He sat back, frowning determinedly at the dice. Tuon took them next, shook them for a moment, and dropped them on the table. She exclaimed slightly at the pair of sixes that peered at her from the table, smiling widely. She gathered the winnings in the center of the table with a small smile, and dipping her hand into a purse at her belt that Mat hadn't noticed, set out three gold coins. The other men's eyes bugged wildly, and so did Mat's. He gave her a hard look, sure that she had snitched that money from him. He wasn't going to let her get away with this.

"I raise," she said softly, and looked straight at him, her head tilted slightly to one side, one eyebrow quirked, as if he were a strange specimen she was attempting to figure out. He attempted to ignore her, and pulled out three of his own gold coins with a sigh. "Match," he said, regretting getting into what seemed to be becoming a very expensive game.

Several rounds later, when the others had long since dropped out when Tuon raised the stakes past their affordability, Mat gritted his teeth and sighed. He held up his hands and pushed the dice cup into the center of the table. Tuon looked at him, her white teeth bright against her dark skin. "I win," she said, and Mat had a nasty feeling that she meant more than the game_  
_

* * *

_It took him a few days to find out where Kaisendrin's rooms were. Not many servants seemed to know. But by luck, he caught a female maid in the hallway bring towels embroidered with the crest he remembered from her stationary, and badgered her into telling him where 'the Lady Kaisendrin' roomed with her servant. He mused for a while on whether it would be worth the effort needed to get rid of Noriha so he could speak to Kaisendrin on his own, and decided that it probably wasn't. Besides, she would cause more trouble, he felt, if she were unobserved. She could easily spread rumours if she was not there to see his and Kaisendrin's interaction. _

_He went down to town and commissioned an artist to form what he needed for his mission, and began preparing, in his mind, exactly how everything would go. At last his gift was ready, and he walked through the hallways, following the memorized passage to Kaisendrin's rooms, holding his precious package delicately and trying to ignore the nervousness fluttering in his belly. He knocked on the door, politely, and waited. A few moments later, it opened to reveal a perfectly composed and stunningly beautiful Kaisendrin, looking as though she had expected him all along. _

_He gaped at her for a moment, then recovered his wits and allowed careful memorization to take over. "My Lady," he said, "To compensate for the unfortunate mistake with the flowers earlier, and to help highlight your wondrous beauty, I have brought you a precious gift." He offered his carefully wrapped bundle to her. She looked surprised, despite herself, but the expression was gone, replaced so quickly by an expression of polite disinterest that he wondered if he had imagined it. She set down the package and smiled slightly. _

"_I am currently waiting to meet with an acquaintance. I am afraid I cannot take visitors. I will open it later and be sure to do with it as I see fit. Thank you." It was a dismissal that verged on rude. He allowed her to shut the door in his face, but stalked back to his rooms, scowling. _

_A few days later, he found what she meant by 'what she saw fit.' Walking through the halls, hoping to happen upon her, he noticed a glint of glass through an open door. He looked through as he passed, and glimpsed Kaisendrin handing an old servant woman the priceless bouquet of flowers with a benevolent smile. She looked at him briefly and smiled, her eyes mocking him. When he got back to his room, he found a note slipped under the door on scented stationary, imprinted with the initials K.S. It had one line, and no signature. She didn't need one._

_He read it twice and kicked viciously at his armoire, screaming his rage loudly enough that a servant stopped to ask if everything was all right with his Lordship. The poor thing nearly got a pottery vase in his face for his trouble. He sat down on his bed and stared at the note for several more minutes, trying to cool down, the curls and curves of her handwriting slowly becoming meaningless even as the two words twisted him further into rage._

"_I win," it said._

* * *

Mat woke up late with a headache that felt less like a hangover and more like an actual headache, which was peculiar. He wasn't really surprised, though – Tuon would give any sane man who was stuck with her a headache. He rolled out of bed and shaved without cutting himself too much, despite his aching head. And with the help of that woman from his dream, Kaisendrin, it was surprising that he wasn't insensible. He could have sworn the pair were related, if he hadn't known that Kaisendrin and her admirer had probably lived centuries ago.

Something on the table in his caravan caught his eye, and upon closer inspection he realized that they were Tuon's winnings from yesterday. With a scowl, he tucked them away, wishing that he had enough money left after that foolish game with her to be able to refuse the gift. He didn't like getting something from Tuon. It felt uncomfortably like a gift from an Aes Sedai.

With a sigh, he went outside, expecting to see Tuon and Selucia waiting to taunt him, but the caravans were mysteriously empty. A few of the performers scurried back and forth, but on the whole, there was no sign of either Thom, Valan Luca, or the pair he'd been dreading. If he hadn't seen the caravans around him, he would have guessed that Tuon had told Valan Luca that they were to leave without Master Matrim Cauthon.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down on the nearest bench and wondered what he was supposed to do. A whinny from the tethers reminded him of Pips, and he resolved to take his horse out. At least he could do something while the others went gallivanting off without him. Burn him if he was going to sit on a bench and mope for the whole morning.

He saddled Pips and pulled himself up, tapping the gelding's sides to push him into an easy trot. He noted that Luca's stallion, Akein, and Selucia's Rosebud were gone, and scowled. If they were hoping for him to come trailing after like a tardy child, they would be sorely disappointed. He guessed that they had ridden ahead, so he pulled Pips head around and headed in the opposite direction. With a small smile, he followed a narrow track just off the main road the circus was following, his mood already brightening a little. He had gone a little ways when he heard a burst of laughter from ahead, the familiar full-throated laugh of Tuon, followed by Selucia's girlish laugh. Mat groaned, but didn't bother to halt. He could see them ahead of him, and Tuon was already looking back and pointing. He could practically see her saying to Selucia, "Look, the poor little Toy has decided to tag along."

With a scowl, he kicked Pips into a canter and soon caught up to the pair. To his surprise and dismay, Thom and Luca were not with them. "What are you two doing, riding out on your own without even an attempt at disguise?" were the unfortunate first words out of his mouth.

Tuon frowned. "No one is out here. We are far from the town and there are no farms near to here. This is not populated country, Toy." She sounded annoyed, and Mat winced, wishing he could take his words back. Well, he had started this argument, and he would finish it. And win, too.

"How would you know that? There are people who live in the woods or on their own, far from others. What if you had met one of those? You aren't dressed like you are from here; how would you explain your presence?"

"We are from the circus that has stopped by the town. Anyone would accept that."

"And what if you had met a Seanchan patrol? Neither of you exactly blend in. They could recognize you at least as one of the Blood. And if I know anything about your customs, they might suspect you of being pretenders to being of higher status than you are. You could be killed. And even if you weren't, you put me and my friends, not to mention the caravan, in danger. Did you even _think? _At the least, you could have taken Thom or Luca with you – someone to make sure you don't make some mistake. You still don't know anything about the way things work around here, and you oughtn't to go anywhere alone until you do!"

Tuon, surprisingly, looked sulky. "They were going to the village to look around."

"Then _why _under the _Light _didn't you wake me up?"

Tuon looked down, her face fixed in an unfamiliar scowl. She didn't answer.

"If this is about your bloody pride or your bloody game, then I forfeit. I am not going to have you risking all our necks for some foolish, childish _game, _no matter what you think is at stake."

Selucia opened her mouth angrily, set to berate him for his mouth or the way he was speaking to the Daughter of the Bloody Nine Moons, but Tuon glanced at her and flicked her fingers. Selucia looked surprised and waved a message back. Tuon scowled at her and moved her fingers in a perfunctory message that he sensed meant, "Be quiet and mind your own business."

She looked back at him and lowered her eyes. She looked...demure. And...sheepish. He could hardly keep from his mouth dropping open. She dismounted from Akein and began to speak. "I am sorry. I have judged badly and risked myself and others. I resign my responsibility for this horse unto you, and ask that you will consent to teach me more of the customs of your land."

Mat's mouth did drop open now. He gaped at her. He wouldn't have been more surprised if she had started swearing and calling him 'Mat' instead of 'Toy'. He swung off of Pips, ignored the glare Selucia was giving him, and took the reins that Tuon was offering. He examined them silently, unsure of what to say. With a sigh, he pushed them back into her hand. "Don't be silly," he said, his voice feeling rough. "I gave you that horse as a gift. I'm not going to take my gift back. Keep her. Just...next time you want to go riding, get me or Thom or Noal or at least one of the Redarms. And if you want me to teach you about something, just ask."

Tuon looked up at him, her gaze now calculating and curious, examining him closely. She smiled, slightly. "I will," she said softly, her familiar, confident drawl back. "Selucia. I think we should be going back." She turned Akein toward the caravan. "Oh, and Toy – when we get back, I would appreciate it if you would join me for a game of Stones with me." She tapped her heels into the razor's sides and sped off, Selucia throwing him one last dirty look before galloping off after her master_  
_

* * *

_He found an excuse to get out of the town as soon as possible. He didn't want to have to see Kaisendrin gliding along with a smug expression on her face, knowing that she had won. He thought if he saw her give him that mocking half-smile one more time, he would probably have to strangle her. _

_He got himself a patrol that rode the hills around Ebou Dar and scouted for the things that supposedly were half beast, half man and hunted like both. A few weeks passed before he found himself in a situation with any real danger, and he had begun to think that the so-called Trollocs were traveller's tales or women's legends told to keep the children in line. _

_He and a small group of other men were riding out a little further, scouting a little farther away than they had before, when they heard a piercing, female scream. _

_If it had been a story, he would have raced off immediately without a thought to his own safety. As it was, they formed into the closest they could get to an attack formation, and kicked their horses into a uniform canter, wary of traps. Another scream burst from the small copse ahead, and they hurried forward, more sure, and soon they burst into a clearing, their horses rearing and trying to run from the foul stench that rolled off the creatures in the clearing. The pair was enormous and hugely muscled, one with the head of a hawk and the other with the head of a goat. His eyes flicked across the clearing, trying to take in a seemingly impossible scene. They moved over the carcass of a horse with its side laid open, the hawk-headed beast lifting its blood covered head from its feast and made a gobbling noise in its throat. He noticed the curved, cruel blade clutched in its clawed fist and moved away over the second beast, moving back and forth with teeth bared in a grimace or snarl. His eyes froze on the crumpled figure behind a solidly set woman holding a stick, her cheek slashed and bloody, wavering slightly, but shouting determinedly, "Get back! Get back!") _

_He recognized the indigo dress through the mud spatters, the pale cheeks, and the long dark hair matted against her head. It was Kaisendrin, and the woman trying to valiantly to defend her master was Noriha, the despised harridan. He could see no wound on the fallen lady, and hoped that she had just fainted from fright. From the corner of his eye, he saw his comrades fighting the hawk-head, one already writhing on the ground with a gash in his belly. He winced and looked away, setting himself to defend Noriha and her mistress when his commander swept past him and directed him brusquely to go to the unattended lady and see to her._

_He dodged behind the rock, trying to ignore the roar of rage that sounded uncomfortably close, trusting his commander to deal with the creature that he now realized was a Trolloc. He bent down next to her, wishing he had some smelling salts or something else genteel to use to wake her up. Instead, he pulled up some foul smelling weeds from beneath the trees nearby and waved them under her nose. Kaisendrin coughed and opened her eyes. For a moment they were blank, and then they cleared with recognition. "You," she said sourly, and then the Trolloc roared behind them, and her eyes rolled back as she went limp in a swoon, again._

* * *

When they got back to the caravans, Thom and Luca still hadn't returned, and the circus was even emptier. The sun was beginning to fall, and Mat assumed that they had probably gone down to the town to entertain and be entertained. Glad that he and Tuon would have some time to themselves – with Selucia, of course – and with the prospect of a Stones game with Tuon, his mood had brightened. Tuon dismounted and tied Akein, removing her light tack and grooming her quickly. Selucia was finished just as quickly, and Mat watched them out of the corner of his eye as he removed his own tack and groomed the sweat out of Pips' coat.

Tuon flicked a message to Selucia, who shook her head and crossed her arms under her marvelous bosom. Tuon widened her eyes and drew herself up, flicked the same message again. Selucia stared at her, her fingers moving slowly, reluctantly. This time, Tuon's motions were perfunctory, almost annoyed. Selucia turned on her heel and stalked away, her back radiating affront and disgruntled frustration.

Tuon looked satisfied. She smirked after Selucia's retreating back, and turned to face Mat, offering her arm. "Well?" she said quietly. "Shall we, Toy?" He grimaced, but supposed that he couldn't expect too much change in one day. She set up the board and took the first turn. He looked at the board for a while before responding, already looking forward to the challenge.

She moved her stone, and without looking up, said, "Selucia is not here, so I may speak more freely than I might otherwise. What do you suggest for the stakes of this game?"

"Stakes?"

"Without something at stake, there is no game."

"I never pegged you for the gambling type."

She smiled, a mysterious little grin. "There are many things about me you don't know." With any other woman, it would have been blatant flirtation, and maybe even an invitation. With Tuon, it was almost a warning. Or maybe just a reminder.

"Fine," she said. "What will you give if you lose?"

"Give yours first, and I'll match it."

"If you win, I will call you Mat and not Toy, and you may kiss me."

He stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I am joking?"

He stared at her, and decided that she didn't. "That's a difficult wager to meet."

She smiled, but said nothing. He thought for a while, and finally sighed. "If you win, Tuon, I will do your will in all things that do not put my men or anyone in the caravan in danger. And I will not complain about you calling me Toy."

She smiled, a little patronizingly, and turned her hand up on the table. "Set," she said. "And agreed." He looked at her hand, wondering if he was supposed to do something, but after a moment she pulled it back and looked at him intently. "Your turn."

He moved.

The game continued for a long time, and he lost track of the things they talked about, though he remembered mentioning his sisters once or twice, and Tuon asking him about what he had been like as a child. It finished on the sixty fifth stone, when he finally trapped her, and she sat back with a sigh.

"Well played, Mat. I have not played such a game in years. Even Selucia is not at the same level as you."

It was a compliment, and for a moment he hardly registered it for the use of his name. It sounded strange, in her voice, drawn out and drawled, but it did not sound bad. Only strange. "Thank you," he said at last. "You played very well also."

She looked at him, her owlish eyes wide, and stood. "You may take the second part of your stakes, Mat. I owe you a kiss."

He stared at her for a few moments, meeting her eyes, and moved closer to her, letting his arms slide around her waist, tenderly lowering his mouth onto her full lips. She was small and warm and felt fragile in his arms, but he could feel the current of strength and energy surging through her. Her lips tasted like ripe, fresh fruit, heady and sweet. Her eyes were closed, and as he released her, she swayed, a little smile on her face. She let her eyes remain closed for a few moments, and then she opened them and was business once again. She smoothed her riding dress and looked him up and down critically.

"I am going to fetch Selucia. We will go into town and (find somewhere to eat dinner. You should get changed. You look a little scruffy." Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded. Then, he cleared his throat and spoke slowly, warily.

"Tuon, eh, tomorrow. Would you like to go riding with me? With Selucia, of course?"

She tilted her head, considering for a moment. "That would be very fine," she said. "Yes, T-Mat. I will ride with you."

He allowed himself a small victory smile as he exited, and he thought he caught glimpse of her in her mirror, her eyes closed and a blissful smile on her face. She was beautiful_  
_

* * *

_She woke up in the infirmary to the much more pleasant scent of herbs and flowers. He smiled at her, gamely. "I'm sorry about the flowers," he said. "I told them you were badly affected by them but they simply refused to believe me."_

_She looked at him for a few moments, then let her head collapse back onto her pillow, closing her eyes wearily. "I'm rather tired right now," she said evenly. "I would appreciate it if you would leave me."_

"_The nurse advised that you move around a bit, do some light exercise. She said it will make you feel better."_

_She stared at him. "What are you doing here, anyway?"_

"_My commander gave me responsibility of you after we found you and your lady being attacked by Trollocs. As I recall, he told me to 'attend to the lady.'"_

_Kaisendrin turned her face away from him, into a bouquet of flowers. "Careful, there," he said lightly. "We wouldn't want you to be getting sick from the flowers that were sent to cheer you." _

"_So. What did she tell you?"_

"_That you were lying about the flowers. That's all I asked. Though she was grateful enough to me for taking care of you that she would have told me anything. 'Oh, that Kaisendrin,' I think she said. 'She is such a tease. She just didn't-"_

"_Stop. Just stop. Whatever she said, she's given you the wrong idea. I need to get out of here and get back to my rooms."_

"_No, I think I have very much the right idea."_

_He looked at her, and she looked at him. Kaisendrin looked down first. "Fine," she said. "Maybe flowers don't make me sneeze. So what? It doesn't really matter, does it?"_

"_I don't know. Does it?"_

_There was silence for a few moments. "I have to go," said Kaisendrin briskly. She got up. "I need to be riding for home. Already I've been gone too long."_

"_Ah ah. Sorry. Healer's orders. No strenuous activity for a week, just to make sure you're not hurt. You won't be going anywhere." _

"_Aren't you happy about that."_

"_I am. I would love to further make you acquaintance, Kaisendrin. Might I suggest a game of Stones? Noriha tells me you play."_

_Kaisendrin sighed, and offered her arm. "Fine. One round. You may escort me, if you wish."_

_He smiled slightly, and nodded. "I do," he said. "Wine or tea?"_


End file.
